A Friend in Need
by Ninjette
Summary: Brad comes to Christie for a favour, involving hired killers. Christie Brad pairing. Please r&r. INCOMPLETE AND MIGHT REMAIN THAT WAY
1. Default Chapter

They were close behind her. Very close.  
  
Her spike heels echoed through the city street as she pushed herself on. The black leather of her jacket stuck to her as a fine sheen of sweat accumulated on her pale skin. Barely a breeze ruffled her short, white hair.  
  
She skidded to a halt beside an expensive-looking sports car. Not what she would have chosen herself but it had been provided by the client. Might as well use it. It would have to be dumped later, but hopefully not without some profit to be made from it. The wail of police sirens was growing louder and louder as she wrenched the door open and threw herself behind the wheel.  
  
Immediately she felt her heart begin to slow as she was able to appraise her situation. Her bright blue eyes narrowed as she watched a police car stop at the end of the alley. Contemplatively, she watched the officers take up positions and start edging towards her.  
  
She felt the ghost of a smile play at her lips as she started the ignition, thrust the car into gear and hurtled out towards the amassed police cars. Christie watched the dawning realisation spread across their faces as they hurriedly tried to move out of her path.  
  
She sped on into the city and into the night. She spun the wheel expertly and turned into another street, and then another. It would be a few more minutes yet she calculated before they could get a helicopter to track her. She just had to get out of the city centre. Just a little further into the suburbs.  
  
The sounds behind her became more and more distant. She allowed herself to sink back into the soft leather interior. A small sigh escaped her and she flicked her tongue over her full lips.  
  
" A little sloppy, no? "  
  
Instantly, Christie tensed. She cursed herself in her mind. Fool, damn fool. Didn't check the back of the car. Lesson number one. Still, she had made mistakes before, not many it's true, but she had made mistakes. She could recover this situation. Just pay attention to what's going on and think. If they wanted you dead they probably wouldn't be engaging in conversation. She reminded herself of the reassuring weight of the two guns against her sides.  
  
" Sloppy? " she questioned neutrally. Scrutinising the back mirror, even throwing a glance over her shoulder, all she could get was a glimpse of green material.  
  
" Well I thought assassins were meant to slip in and out quietly. Stealth and all that. And I'd say, by the look of all those police cars, that someone saw you. "  
  
Despite herself, Christie felt nettled at the slur on her professional expertise.  
  
" The information I was given was incorrect. "  
  
" Ah, " the voice conceded.  
  
There was silence for a few seconds, before they added,  
  
" Still, I thought you'd check the back of the car before you got in. "  
  
Christie's lips tightened. She fumed. In the midst of the shock and then insult, she realised she had missed something vital. Perhaps she was getting sloppy. She knew that voice. She knew it, but couldn't place it.  
  
" Why don't you come out from behind the seats and discuss it with me, " she challenged. Her eyes flicked between watching the road and the rear view mirror.  
  
" Perhaps I should. It is painful to be cramped up back here. I shall have back ache if I'm not careful, " the voice responded.  
  
There was quiet for a few seconds.  
  
" Well? " Christie demanded impatiently, when the stowaway still didn't show themselves.  
  
" I am afraid, " the voice countered, slightly embarrassed.  
  
" But I'm such a sloppy assassin, " Christie threw back sarcastically. " Surely you're not afraid of little, old, inept me? "  
  
There was silence again.  
  
" You sound a little angry. Perhaps I should stay back here. "  
  
Tired of playing games, Christie slammed the brakes down. She threw her hands up off the steering wheel, frustrated. She shook her head and switched the ignition off.  
  
" I'm tired, I'm dirty and I'm not in the mood for this, " she stated. " So you come out now or I come back there and get you out. "  
  
Cautiously, the stowaway lifted their head. She watched the tall, oriental man unwind himself from the darkness of the back seat and sit up. His long white hair was secured into a plait. His dark eyes watched her carefully. The muscular build of his body was emphasised by the green shirt and dark jeans he was wearing.  
  
" Tempting offer. " He tried a smile at her, hopefully.  
  
She stared at him. Shock mingled with relief. And confusion, above everything else, confusion.  
  
" Brad, " she stated. " Brad Wong. "  
  
" You remember me! That is a good start. "  
  
Christie stared up at the night sky and struggled for words.  
  
" What.. Uh.. Just, what do you want? "  
  
" Down to business, no messing about. You are very professional Christie. I take it all back. "  
  
" No Brad, tell me now. What do you want? What are you doing in my car? How did you find me? And again, what do you want? "  
  
Brad sat forward, the moonlight playing across his handsome features. She had never noticed he was good looking. Christie caught herself quickly. There were plenty of good looking men about she reminded herself and they were all too much trouble for someone in her line of work.  
  
" I needed the advice of an assassin, " he said thoughtfully. Then he grinned suddenly. " You are an assassin, no? All those police officers are not chasing you down for parking tickets, I hope? Not that I would hope that you had killed someone you understand. Though it would not be my business to interfere in your chosen vocation. Simply it would be very embarrassing for me. "  
  
Christie sat back and tried to take in this verbal onslaught. She was almost dizzy with fatigue and hunger. What with incorrect information and a very elusive target this had not been the easiest of missions. She had been stretched too far in the last few days. She needed rest. Not this drunk with verbal diarrhoea and beautiful eyes.  
  
" Are you unwell? " she heard him ask solicitously as she closed her eyes for a moment. She felt his fingers brush lightly against her brow. Positive human contact. How long was it since she'd experienced that? Not strangulation or punches or kicks. Physical contact that didn't mean any harm. The suddenness of it knocked her.  
  
" Take your hands off me or I'll do it for you, " she warned, her eyes flicking open again. Brad raised his hands in mock surrender.  
  
" I'm sorry. "  
  
Christie turned around to face him.  
  
" So, you want advice huh? Isn't that what you said? "  
  
" The advice of an assassin, yes. "  
  
Christie met his gaze and held it.  
  
" Why me? Why not.. Well, why not Bayman? "  
  
" Bayman is not as pretty as you, " Brad offered winningly.  
  
Seeing her bright eyes harden to steel, Brad felt forced to continue.  
  
" I could not deal with the ` If it hurts, it means you're still alive` man. Too rigid. Too self-righteous. Funny, no, that a man who kills people for money is so sanctimonious? "  
  
" And I'm a well known for having no sense of fair play, so you thought you'd come to me. Is that right? " Christie reasoned, her voice sharp.  
  
Brad smiled infuriatingly, a smile Christie was tempted to slice off his face.  
  
" You are very lovely when you are angry. I was right, Bayman is nowhere near as pretty as you. "  
  
Seeing her tense, waiting for the slightest provocation to begin a fight, Brad sighed and shrugged.  
  
" I need help. You I thought would give me advice. I did not think Bayman would. "  
  
Mollified, Christie inclined her head, signalling a truce.  
  
" I want to get back to my hotel and have a shower Brad. Come with me and we'll talk further. " Seeing him grin and begin to speak she cut him off angrily. " Come with me to my hotel, you pig, not my shower. "  
  
" I was simply going to thank you for your courteous offer and overlook your slip. I am a gentleman you know. "  
  
Christie snorted and turned the engine on as Brad climbed into the front seat beside her.  
  
As she drove on, Brad fished a hip flask from his pocket and took a generous swig.  
  
" Let me tell you, Christie my friend, it took some courage on my behalf to approach you. "  
  
She flicked a glance at him.  
  
" What, you thought I'd take your head off for asking for advice? "  
  
" For following you and hiding in your car I thought you might. "  
  
" Ah, for that I might still take your head off, " she agreed. " It is good manners in polite society to offer one's hip flask around you know. "  
  
" How nice. I have never been included in polite society before. "  
  
Agreeably, Brad handed the small silver flask to her. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, she took a small gulp. She spluttered as the liquid registered on her taste buds.  
  
" Careful, " Brad admonished, taking the flask back quickly before she spilt it.  
  
" That, " Christie spat, " is orange squash. Very weak orange squash at that. What happened to `I drink to the snow, I drink to the sand, I drink to the sidewalk`? "  
  
Brad shrugged, not at all embarrassed.  
  
" I didn't say I drank alcohol, " he countered reasonably.  
  
" What kind of drunken boxer are you? " Christie demanded.  
  
" A sober one. "  
  
" Doesn't that defeat the purpose of being a drunken boxer? "  
  
" Just the opposite. None of you took me seriously at the tournament. I heard you all refer to me as a drunk. " Christie, despite herself, blushed slightly. He waved a hand dismissively. " I took it as a compliment. I fought as a drunk and you believed I was a drunk. Yet I still very nearly won. "  
  
Christie thought back.  
  
" You were about third or fourth weren't you? "  
  
" The ninjas. Who can beat them? " he answered philosophically. " I found what I was looking for. I am content. "  
  
Her curiosity piqued, Christie couldn't help herself but probe further.  
  
" And what were you looking for? "  
  
Brad smiled slightly and turned to face out the windscreen. His eyes scanned the early morning suburbs.  
  
" Not the same as you. "  
  
Realising what he was referring to, Christie pursed her lips and sighed.  
  
" Another one who worships at the feet of Helena Douglas, I see. "  
  
Brad laughed lightly and turned back to her.  
  
" Do not we all? She has achieved cult status. Me, I blame the singing. Who can resist a beautiful, talented woman like that who can break your heart and your legs? Perhaps you should learn a musical instrument and get a few followers yourself. "  
  
Christie shook her head resolutely, irritated that he had detected the jealous note to her voice.  
  
" I don't need followers, Brad. I'm fine by myself. "  
  
" Ah, another affection-starved killer! What a cliché you have become my friend! "  
  
She shook her head again and laughed coldly. She brushed a few strands of the strange white hair that had slipped into her eyes.  
  
" Do you really think that? Do you really believe that I am affection- starved? Don't you think I can do very nicely for myself when I want to? "  
  
" I believe you could have any one you want, " he answered, suddenly serious. Christie nodded, unselfconsciously.  
  
" And therein lies the problem: I just don't want anyone. Like I said, I'm fine by myself. "  
  
Brad laughed and clutched his hands to his chest theatrically.  
  
" You wound me, beautiful lady! You cut me to the bone with your words! " He laughed again and turned to look out of the window.  
  
" Do not concern yourself Christie, " he assured her, only half-serious, " I have understood your message. I am just a mere man, not enough to interest you. "  
  
Once again, she found herself frustrated at the turn the conversation had taken. Why couldn't they have dumped the car and be back at the hotel by now? Why was she going to have to sit through at least another ten minutes of his mocking and teasing?  
  
" Look, seeing as you've understood my message, " she answered sardonically, " why don't we get down to business? "  
  
" What man could refuse such an offer? " he threw back.  
  
Choosing to overlook the mock-lecherous tone of his voice, Christie continued, " What's the advice you need? "  
  
He didn't answer for a few seconds and Christie could see how he was choosing his words carefully.  
  
" A contract has been put out on a friend of mine. How can I stop it? "  
  
Somewhat taken aback Christie thought deeply. She turned the car towards the garage and clicked the remote lock. The heavy metal door began to roll up slowly and noisily.  
  
" Do you know who's been hired? " she asked.  
  
" Not a clue, " he answered with a single shake of his head.  
  
" Why'd anyone want to kill them? What have they been doing and who have they been upsetting? "  
  
Christie parked the sleek sports car and climbed out. Brad followed her to the small black Corsa that also resided in the garage as he spoke.  
  
" Now the answer to that is everything and everyone. They do a lot, go many places, meet many people. "  
  
Christie raised her eyebrows and cast a glance at him as he settled into the little car beside her.  
  
" You're making this easy for me I see. No details. How do you know they're not on my to-do list? "  
  
Brad smiled broadly.  
  
" They are not. "  
  
" How do you know that? We might be on the way to dispatch your friend at this very moment. "  
  
" Well, they're not at home right now. So we have time to talk about how to rescue them from whichever one of your colleagues is currently stalking them. "  
  
The use of gender neutral phraseology suddenly registered with Christie. Brad had been very careful so far not to assign this friend a gender. A woman, no doubt. Someone from the tournament? That would explain why I hadn't been hired, I'd be regarded as too involved. Which girlfriend of his am I being worked to save? The thought rankled. He'd come all this way, tracked her down and been apparently very honest; all for this woman.  
  
" So, tell me about this `friend` of yours? " Christie asked, forcing a friendly note into her voice as she reversed the different car out and reshut the garage door.  
  
Brad became effusive, slapping a hand to his chest.  
  
" Someone I care deeply for, very close to my heart. " 


	2. 2

By the time they had reached the small slum of a hotel that Christie was staying at, Brad had not been any more forthcoming. Christie didn't know why she hadn't thrown him out on the street by now. He wanted advice and yet could give no information to work with. Maybe she was lonely, maybe she found it reassuring to have non-threatening company. Whatever the reason, Brad was settling himself down on the moth-eaten sofa while Christie peeled off her stained, dirty clothes in her room.  
  
As she took a shower she could hear him fiddling around in the kitchenette: the clink of cups, the hissing of the kettle. All the comforting domestic noises Christie hadn't heard since her employment with Helena Douglas. The thought of the beautiful blonde struck her. Could Helena be the target? It would explain why she hadn't been hired. Having failed once, she wouldn't be hired to try again. Brad and Helena as a couple? No, couldn't be. Could it? He defended her, openly admires her. But to ask for advice from the woman who until recently had been trying to kill her. No. Impossible. But, it would suit Brad's sense of humour.  
  
Christie tried to relax under the pounding of hot water. It felt good to be clean again. But the nagging question of Brad's `friend` wouldn't leave her. He gave no names, no details, nothing. How could she possibly be expected to help? Unless he had some other reason to be here. She cursed as the seed of paranoia took root. How to go from here was the issue now. Don't give too much of yourself away, she cautioned herself. Be on guard.  
  
Back in the main room Brad was fighting a losing battle with the television remote. The numbers on the control didn't appear to correspond to the channels. As Christie returned wearing a loose shirt and a pair of shorts, he turned to her with a frustrated look.  
  
" Do they put the numbers on here for fun? Are we supposed to guess? Or is it a code? "  
  
Christie shrugged and went over to the kitchen, looking for the cup of coffee or tea she presumed he'd made for her.  
  
" I don't mean to be rude my friend, but this is a real dump. I always thought you hired killers were meant to be well paid, " he remarked.  
  
" The street outside starting to sound good to you Brad? " Christie asked warningly, without turning around.  
  
" But I suppose as far as dumps go it has a cosy lived-in feel which I can appreciate, " Brad added rapidly.  
  
She smiled thinly and picked up the cup of liquid sat on the sideboard. It was pale brown in colour and had small white lumps bobbing around on the surface.  
  
" I think the milk is past its sell-by-date, " he noted helpfully.  
  
The liquid was poured down the sink and Christie settled herself down on the floor in front of the television.  
  
" You needn't have dressed up for me, " Brad commented, noting her clothes. " I promise I don't have designs on your body, delightful as I'm sure it is. "  
  
Deep breaths, Christie reminded herself. Years of discipline helped her soothe her rising temper. How strange, she mused, that a comment like that from any other man would have been nothing. Yet from him, it stung.  
  
" They're comfortable, okay? Now Brad, please keep that mouth of yours tightly closed for ten minutes. If that concept causes you problems, I shall take out my knife and give you something else to think about. "  
  
He was suitably subdued. Ignoring him, she set up her laptop and logged into her email account. There was nothing from her client. That unnerved her. She had never had a client go so quiet. Especially on the night when she was due to act. Usually they couldn't keep from demanding details and progress reports. Yet this one was silent. Checking her bank account, she found the money she was expecting had cleared. That was reassuring. But she couldn't shake the shiver of fear that shot through her. Maybe she was becoming paranoid, what with Brad and the hectic events of the night. Caution was a prerequisite for those in her line of work. Paranoia though could be crippling.  
  
" Perhaps ten minutes has not gone by yet, but I shall just hope you keep you knife safely tucked away while I ask if you're cold? "  
  
Rattled by the intrusion into her thoughts, she turned around irritably.  
  
" What? What now? " she snapped.  
  
Brad held his hands up in a surrender gesture.  
  
" You shivered, " he said seriously. " I wondered if you are cold. There is a blanket here. "  
  
Christie shook her head and turned back to the screen. Nothing. All of her instincts told her that she had to move. This no longer felt like a normal job. It could of course mean nothing. Perhaps her client was simply better controlled than the others, trusting in her ability to get the job done. But he'd emailed her before. So why not now? And the information he had given her had been incorrect. Timings out by a few minutes, directions just a little vague enough to be misleading. Nothing major but it set Christie's nerves on edge.  
  
Moving out seemed the best option, but for one thing. She was tired. Really very tired. She couldn't judge anything properly in this state. Hell, she'd even allowed herself to be hijacked by Brad. Not that he meant any harm it seemed but that was simply luck. He could have been anyone. She hadn't checked and because of it she could be dead right now. To operate properly she needed a few hours sleep. Besides Brad could keep watch.  
  
As the last thought passed through her brain, Christie realised just how completely depleted she was. To even think of depending on anyone else for her safety was ridiculous. And a virtual stranger like him! No, she'd have to put up a few safeguards before she could even think of sleeping.  
  
Pleased to have settled on a course of action, Christie unplugged her computer and pushed it out of sight under the couch.  
  
" It has released you from its thrall then? " Brad asked.  
  
She looked at him to see him looking back at her expectantly.  
  
" The computer, " he explained. " It seemed to be hypnotising you. "  
  
Ignoring him, Christie stood and went over to the small electric lamp that illuminated the room. She used the corner of her skirt and removed the hot bulb.  
  
" Christie, my friend, I cannot see in the dark. I will fall over things, " Brad complained.  
  
" I suggest you stay on the couch then and don't go wandering around. "  
  
In a practised motion, Christie closed her fist around the bulb. It shattered into the thick cotton of her shirt. Carefully, she began to sprinkle the pieces across the floor.  
  
" I don't think you'll get your deposit back from the manager of this place if you go around breaking all the light bulbs, " he advised her sensibly.  
  
" I'm not breaking all of them Brad. Just this one so I'll hear if anyone moves about in here, " she answered with as much patience as she could summon up.  
  
He was silent for a moment. She could just about see him by the light of the streetlights outside. He was sat cross-legged on the sofa, apparently watching her. The silence didn't last for long.  
  
" But what if I need the toilet in the night? "  
  
Taking a deep breath Christie reminded herself that she had not been hired to kill him and so she would get no money if she did and would simply have the mess of a dead body to clean up.  
  
" Do you need the toilet Brad? "  
  
Silence again.  
  
" Well no, but I might. Or what if there is a fire? "  
  
" Then you'll get cut feet. End of discussion. "  
  
She went into her bedroom and pulled the door to. The bed mattress was hard and lumpy. The blankets were thin and scratchy. But it was a bed and she had a few hours. Laying down she allowed herself to succumb to sleep.  
  
It was a feeling of pleasant surprise that awoke Brad. The crunch of glass had indeed woken him up. Christie had been correct, even though he had doubted that such a miniscule amount of glass would make a significant amount of noise. Next he registered the fact that there was someone right beside him. The dark shape leaning over him was not Christie, as Brad had immediately hoped, but someone who didn't have even half the right kind of curves.  
  
Deciding that whoever it was probably shouldn't be there, Brad gave a sudden kick aimed directly at the kneecap. He was rewarded with a satisfying curse and thud as the person toppled to the floor. Unfortunately there were more people in the room than just his victim. At least two other shapes. One of which was already halfway through Christie's door.  
  
Determined to keep them from her, Brad threw himself at the one who was evidently intent on Christie. He collided with the solid figure and the impact sent them hurtling through the doorway. Christie happened to be in their path and the combined force of an enraged Brad and a muscle-bound attacker sent her flying to the floor. She whimpered as her head hit the metal bed frame, the pain causing her to loosen her grip on the gun that she was holding. The other men had been chasing after Brad and their colleague and instantly lunged for the gun. Still mildly concussed, Christie scrabbled with them frantically. She desperately clawed for it but eventually lost.  
  
The winner jabbed the gun to Brad's head as he continued to wrestle with the other men. He froze instantly.  
  
" Stand up, very slowly, " a voice commanded him.  
  
What light there was came from the window in the other room. Brad could make out only vague forms. Plus, he could hear Christie's heavy breathing. He had heard the smack as her head had connected with the metal. It sounded as though it hurt. That was what he had wanted to avoid.  
  
Too late though. Now his only option was to cooperate and get her out of the room and harm's way as quickly as he could. Preferably with no additional injuries added to her concussion.  
  
He stood carefully and allowed himself to be moved back into the relative light of the other room. Christie was forced in behind him, her arms being pinned behind her back by one of the other men. She staggered forward and Brad wondered if her head was bleeding. A cool wave of panic rushed through him. This hadn't been what he wanted. He hadn't planned for this. She wasn't meant to get hurt. But she had and it was his fault.  
  
He turned to face the man with the gun who was studying Brad carefully.  
  
" And what do we do with you? " the man asked rhetorically.  
  
" I think we know that. We don't know how but we know what, don't we? But her, you don't need her. Let her go. I give up. You won. I won't fight. Just let her go. " The words rushed out. Brad tried to speak reasonably and persuasively, but his usual charm wouldn't come. It was dimmed by his fear, fear for her safety, her life.  
  
The man was quiet, still looking at Brad.  
  
" But, " he said finally. " We don't want you. "  
  
" But. but I thought..? I thought you were here for me, " Brad said haltingly.  
  
" No, we're here for her, " the man answered, gesturing towards Christie with the gun.  
  
Brad followed his gaze. He saw Christie looking at him, eyes wide and luminous. She understood now. There had been no `friend`. It was him. The contract was out on him. Of course she wouldn't have been hired. But why hadn't he told her? With a great deal of effort, she turned her attention back to the situation in hand.  
  
" Who sent you? Who are you working for? " she asked, coolly professional.  
  
" Your current client, " the man answered quietly.  
  
Christie smiled, the pieces falling into place in her mind.  
  
" I wasn't contacted because I wasn't expected to get out alive. I was meant to get the target and then fall foul of either the internal security guards or the police, who someone helpfully tipped off. Only I was too good, wasn't I? " she verified, a note of pride slipping into her voice, despite the circumstances.  
  
The man nodded. " That's right. But not so good that we didn't catch you. Now, where's your computer? "  
  
" It's too late for that. I was suspicious when there was no contact from the client. I've already forward his emails and all the details to someone else. Someone else knows what your client did. Killing me might stop me from talking, but there are others who know now, " Christie lied smoothly.  
  
" Then we'll just have to find and kill them too, " the man answered grimly. " And that's why we need your laptop. Now you can tell us where it is and in return we'll deal with you nice and quick. Make us look for it though and it will last a lot longer. "  
  
" Tear the place apart, " Christie invited. " It's rented anyway. "  
  
At the man's command, the others began to rifle through cupboards and drawers. Christie racked her brains as she thought of a way to get over to the sofa. It wouldn't be long before they turned their attention there. Still, she had bought them both a little time. She turned to look at Brad, who so far had contrived to get in the way of the search at every given opportunity. Once again the men were forced to shove him aside before they could continue.  
  
" Oh I'm sorry, I just keep getting under your feet. Let me get out of your way, " Brad volunteered, sitting himself down on the sofa. The streetlight streamed through the window directly behind him, obscuring his face and turning his hair a pale shade of orange. Christie tried to catch his eye, trying to indicate that the laptop was right beneath him. However, he was intent on watching the search.  
  
She felt the pain buzz on in her head. She was still tired. And there was a gun pointing at her. It wasn't a new experience but it irritated her that it was actually her own gun she was facing. Racking her brains she couldn't see a way through this. Brad evened the odds a little but it was his fault that the gun was in their possession. Still, she reasoned, they would have brought their own guns anyway. What annoyed her though was that they hadn't even needed to draw them. Her gun had virtually been handed to them. Sloppy was the only word to describe it. It was the only way to describe her entire performance this evening.  
  
Still, if she could just get her arms free then she could fight her way out. Surely Brad would be able to understand that as a plan. She readied her legs to relax, to throw the man holding her off balance. A quick kick to the hand pointing the gun and they should be on equal footing again.  
  
It was a plan. A risky one. One that required perfect timing. If the man was going to shoot, she wanted it to hit the man holding her. Which meant she was going to have to work fast to throw the man forward. Forcing herself not to tense, not to do anything that could give away her plan, Christie began to count down from three in her head.  
  
" Oh here it is, " Brad commented helpfully, holding the laptop out.  
  
Christie's heart exploded in her chest. She promised herself that if by some miracle she got out of this alive, the very first thing she was going to do was murder Brad in the most painful way she could think of. And she prided herself on knowing some good, painful ways to die.  
  
The man with the gun reached out for it. In a lightning move, Brad pulled the laptop back and held it out of the window. The man froze, his eyes fixed on the computer.  
  
" Computers aren't part of my field of expertise, " Brad said pleasantly. " Tell me, would a twenty-foot drop be very damaging for this computer? "  
  
" I think it might make it very difficult for these gentlemen to track down anyone I've sent any emails to, " Christie agreed, revising her promise to herself to include a kiss on the lips for Brad for this stunt, before she brutally killed him.  
  
Brad settled himself comfortably, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, all the while holding the laptop out over the deserted street.  
  
" This doesn't concern you, " the man said reasonably. " Give us the laptop and you can leave here with your life. "  
  
Brad was quiet for a moment, before nodding.  
  
" Sounds good, " he agreed. " What about her? You kill her once I leave? "  
  
" Unfortunately, that part is non-negotiable. She's got to die, " the man stated, shrugging.  
  
" Risks of the job Brad. I accepted it when I started out. Just go, I can take care of myself. "  
  
Brad laughed briefly. " Yes, I can see that. No, Christie my friend, I think you need my help here. "  
  
" But that's just it Brad. I'm not your friend! You don't know anything about me! I've got through things a lot worse than this, and all without your help would you believe? "  
  
There was silence in the room as he digested what Christie had said. Sensing he was wavering, Christie added softly, " Don't try and be a hero. I'm okay. I'm not some damsel in distress. I can manage by myself. "  
  
" I know you feel you ought to be noble, but this isn't a noble line of work that she and I are in. There's nothing you can do here, " the man added.  
  
" No, you don't seem to understand, " Brad said, leaning forward. " I'm not being a gentleman here. I'm being very selfish. Look, as soon as you have this laptop, she dies, doesn't she? " Brad checked.  
  
" Yes, " the man said.  
  
" No, " Christie countered firmly.  
  
" I am going to believe him for the moment. He does have the gun right now Christie, " Brad explained in a sensible tone. " You see, as open-minded as I may be, my tastes do not run to necrophilia. I would prefer to keep the woman I love alive. I will keep my arm out here, if that is all the same to you. "  
  
" No, that's not all the same to me! I need that laptop! " the man insisted, moving forward menacingly.  
  
" My arm is weakening! " Brad warned.  
  
The man backed off again. There seemed to be a standoff.  
  
" Oh for heaven's sake, you lunatic fool, either drop the thing or hand it over! I don't want to hang around like this all night! " Christie cursed, losing patience.  
  
" You are very keen to die, " Brad noted.  
  
" Anything to get me out of here! " she spat back.  
  
He sighed and shook his head disappointedly.  
  
" Try to do a lady a favour, " he grumbled quietly.  
  
" Right, " the man with the gun said, deciding to try and take charge again. " Lets try this. Hand over the laptop or we kill her. "  
  
He pressed the gun up to Christie's pale forehead and turned to see how Brad would react.  
  
" Good going Brad, " Christie congratulated him sarcastically. " Got any other bright ideas of ridiculous stunts to get my life in any more danger? Would you please just give these men my laptop and get out of here before you actually do get me killed? "  
  
" Hmm, it did not work out quite how I hoped, " Brad admitted. " I didn't really plan past holding the computer out of the window. "  
  
The man smacked Christie hard across the face with the gun.  
  
" Did that help you think? " the man questioned.  
  
She lifted her head back up. There was a nasty looking welt on her cheek and a line of blood trickled from a split lip. Her eyes burnt as she glared at the man. Even though she was securely held, the man felt uneasy under the weight of her furious gaze.  
  
" That was uncalled for, " Brad remarked, a hard undertone to his voice. " Here, have your laptop. "  
  
Using all of the strength of his arm, Brad threw the laptop like a Frisbee. It connected with the man's chin, knocking him right back. As soon as Christie realised what Brad was doing she threw herself forward, bringing the man holding her flying over her head. She followed it up with a hard kick to the neck, knocking him unconscious. As she was bending down, Brad leapt over her to the man with the gun. He banged the man's head swiftly against the floor a few times, until the man stopped struggling. The last of the attackers was pulling out his gun as Christie grabbed his wrist and jerked it backwards, hearing the satisfying click as the bone broke. The gun fell to the floor. Ignoring it, Christie elbowed the man viciously in the neck.  
  
Assured that all three men were safely unconscious, Christie reached down for the gun. Brad touched her hand lightly.  
  
" Christie, can we maybe not kill them? I am just a little squeamish about it. "  
  
She fixed him with a steely gaze and raised an eyebrow.  
  
" I wasn't going to kill them. I just wanted my gun back. "  
  
" Of course, yes, " Brad apologised. " I mean, we're getting away so there is no need to. "  
  
" And besides, " Christie added as she patted the men down expertly, " what would we do with the bodies? "  
  
" Well yes, that too, " he agreed uncertainly.  
  
She fished out a wallet. No ID. Just a few notes of money, which she pocketed.  
  
" So, " she said, standing up to face Brad. " There was no friend. You're the one someone's trying to kill. "  
  
Brad squirmed a little under her scrutiny.  
  
" I make friends easily it seems, " he joked weakly.  
  
" And you were going to give yourself up to save me, " she said emotionlessly.  
  
" But they did not want me. I am still recovering from the insult. "  
  
She stepped closer and looked him squarely in the eye. He tried to find a shred of emotion in her strange, bright eyes. But they were empty. He could only see himself reflected.  
  
" Listen to me, you came for advice, well this is it. You do not ever, under any circumstances, give yourself up. Make whoever it is work for the kill and earn their money. Do you hear me? "  
  
" I do not have much experience of people trying to kill me. You would need someone like Kasumi for that. Generally people like me and don't want to kill me, you know. People other than you that is. "  
  
Christie turned away from him. She moved to look out of the window, scanning the street for any signs that their attackers had a back-up team.  
  
" Oh yes, about that. "  
  
" Must we talk about that? " Brad asked plaintively. " It is really very embarrassing and I have already been rejected once this evening. "  
  
" It's okay Brad, I know you didn't mean it. I just wanted to tell you not to pull a stunt like that again. "  
  
He frowned, watching her look out. She was still in her shirt and shorts, plus a pair of pink, fluffy bed socks that he found strangely endearing.  
  
He moved to stand behind her and gently turned her around to face him. She didn't resist but looked past him.  
  
" No Christie, I did mean it. I meant it very much. I have loved you since I first saw you beating Bayman senseless, " he grinned. " I did try to catch your attention at the time. I even tried to organise it so we would fight each other in the tournament. I thought for sure if you were fighting me you would pay me some attention, even if it were just to look for weak spots. But you were preoccupied. I believe you were busy trying to kill Helena Douglas at the time. "  
  
He released her and stepped back. " And it's just as well I didn't make a fool of myself by throwing myself at you. It's fine because I understand now. I'd just get in your way. People in your line of work don't have lovers. "  
  
" No, " Christie agreed flatly. " We don't. "  
  
Brad smiled and shrugged.  
  
" That's okay. I don't want to be a nuisance to you. But when I heard someone was trying to kill me, I couldn't resist coming to see you. I had a connection with you that was professional and so I couldn't be a nuisance. Well, not a romantic one anyway. "  
  
Christie was quiet for a long time before moving towards her room.  
  
" Get your things Brad, we can't stay here. "  
  
She left the room without another word. He sighed and looked after her for a few moments. Then he sat down and began to try and pick the shards of glass out of his feet. 


	3. 3

Safely away from Brad's eyes, Christie leant against the wall and fought the rising tide of emotion. She fought to catch her breath and even out her heartbeat. What a complete catastrophe tonight had been. She'd almost bungled the assassination and almost been killed herself. Both events had come just too close for comfort. If she hadn't have heard the scuffle between Brad and one of the men she could have been sound asleep when they came for her. As she thought back, one thing struck her. Instead of grabbing her things and making a run for it, she'd grabbed a gun and gone in for a fight. Brad's fault.

It was also primarily Brad's fault that she was suffering some sort of mild panic attack right now, she presumed. She had worked so hard all her life to stay cold. It was the only way to survive as an assassin. But what with Brad deluding himself that he was in love with her, it brought her situation home to her. The absolute, unending solitude.

She tried to ask herself how she felt about Brad, to gain some insight into her feelings. Years of training coolly pointed to the weaknesses in his behaviour and fighting style. Very useful, if killing him was her aim. But her mind couldn't deal with anything beyond that. She certainly found him physically attractive. Amusing as well in his own inane way. Intriguing, yes, definitely that too. That was something she couldn't say about many men. But did that constitute love? 

And did it even matter? He was deluding himself. She hadn't done anything to merit his love. There had been no special act of kindness or moment of connection. It was fantasy. She had to be very careful and treat it as such. If she let herself think she was in love she could be in for some serious heartache when he got over the idea. Not to mention the damage to her career. No, wipe it away. Freeze over again.

She forced herself back to normality. For a moment she simply stood, breathing regularly and focussing on the familiar weight of the gun in her hand. The cold metal reassured her. She stripped off her nightclothes and pulled on her blue-jeans, black sweater and black boots. Meticulously yet quickly she repacked her meagre possessions into her case. She scanned the room, checking she had collected everything of hers. Only her laptop to collect now.

As she went into the other room, Brad was depositing the last few shards of glass onto a chipped saucer. The early morning light showed up the bloody soles of his feet. 

" You walked on the glass, " she commented, walking over to the shabby minibar and removing two small bottles of whisky.

" Some idiot had spread it out across the floor. It was hard to avoid. Luckily my skin is pretty tough but I'd like to thank them for their consideration, " he said through gritted teeth.

Christie ignored him. Without saying a word she took hold of one of his feet and poured one of the bottles of alcohol over it.

Brad took a sharp intake of breath and pulled his foot away.

" Woman! I have to walk on these! "

Christie reached for the other foot and began pouring alcohol over that one too. Despite his protestations, Brad held his foot as still as he could.

" It'll clean the wound. "

" I know what it does, I just can't help but feel you're enjoying this. "

She didn't answer but gently began to dry the skin with a towel. 

" Will you be able to walk? " she asked finally.

Brad nodded.

" Just give me a moment. Now, is it my turn to pour alcohol over you? "

" No, my wounds are clean, " Christie asserted flatly.

" Show me the back of your head, " he asked.

" It's fine. "

" Please, " Brad insisted gently. " Kneel down so I can see. "

She hesitated for a moment. His dark eyes were fixed on her, silently insisting. Understanding how painful his feet must be, she reluctantly turned and knelt down. 

His touch was surprisingly delicate. He smoothed away the strands of hair and she tried hard not to notice the warmth of his breath on her neck. After what felt like an eternity he released her. She rose to her feet instantly.

" You are right, " he agreed quietly. " It's clean. "

Ignoring the flush she felt creeping across her cheeks, she retrieved her laptop from the floor and checked it for damage. It was scuffed and the casing in one corner was cracked. The only way to see if it was damaged internally was to try and use it and she didn't have time for that now.

" Have you got everything? " she asked curtly.

Brad fished around by the sofa and pulled up a pair of scruffy trainers. He waved them at her triumphantly and slipped them on.

" Why did you walk on the glass if you have trainers? " Christie demanded icily.

He turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. For the first time, she was able to put a name to the dark gold colour of his eyes. The stone tiger's-eye. How appropriate, she thought briefly, before banishing the thought as irrelevant. 

" I sleep barefoot. I could hardly ask the nice man not to go and assassinate you until I'd put my shoes on, could I? I don't believe you'd wait until your victim felt they were dressed properly for the occasion. "

" Whatever. You've got your shoes on now so lets make a move. "

A few seconds later Christie and Brad were running down the fire escape. Even in her heavy boots Christie moved silently on the metal stairs. To his credit, Brad was just as quiet. Despite herself, she was impressed.

" I still think this is a waste of time, " he remarked.

Quiet on his feet, Christie amended.

"  Stay in the room then, " she threw back.

" I think you know I'm referring to using the back stairs. If there was a back-up crew, won't they think to cover all exits? "

" Since when are you an expert on this kind of thing? "

" Well, you would check other exits, wouldn't you? "

" Would you kindly stop using me as some kind of model assassin? Different assassins do things differently. "

" But you do it so well, " Brad offered winningly.

" Stop talking now Brad, " Christie commanded. 

Brad opened his mouth to respond but noticed Christie's hand stray to the bulge at her hip he knew to be her gun. He closed his mouth again. 

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Brad moved towards Christie's little black car from the previous evening. 

" Leave it. We'll get a new one, " Christie ordered, walking straight by it.

He shrugged but hurried to catch her up.

" A rather decadent approach. Use it once, then buy a new one. "

Christie turned to face him as she walked.

" Who said anything about buying it? " she asked with a crooked smile.

He shook his head ruefully.

" I see you are going to be a very bad influence on me. You've dragged me into brawls and car theft in the space of twelve hours. I hope you're proud of yourself young lady, corrupting a decent man like myself. "

" Huh, a decent man doesn't break into a lady's car and hijack her. What would your mother say? "

" She'd probably congratulate me on my good taste. "

She didn't answer. Her head was turned away, the wind shivering through her striking white hair. Brad thought at first that he'd offended her. He hadn't meant to bring any romantic tone to the banter. He'd only just managed to get her speaking reasonably cheerfully. The words had just slipped out. He craned forward to catch a look at her face.

She wasn't upset. In fact Brad doubted she'd even heard him. Her eyes were instead fixed on a dirty red Volvo parked across the street. One window was half open. He didn't know whether to be grateful or offended that she'd stopped listening. Grateful he supposed. But some small part of him would have liked to force the topic out into the open. Not the time now though, he cautioned himself. Later, he promised himself, following her strong, steady gait as she crossed over to the car.

A few minutes later and they were driving along in the stolen car. Christie quickly became accustomed to the new car and flexed her fingers on the steering wheel comfortably. She flicked a glance in the rear view mirror. No-one. So far so good. Her companion was uncharacteristically silent. She looked at him appraisingly. He was fiddling with the seat belt. It was jammed half way up and was therefore a little too tight for his muscular frame. He tugged at it a couple of times then tried moving his seat back a few inches. It would just about do up, if he didn't breathe too deeply. He settled for a second. Then he began adjusting his side mirror. 

" What IS wrong with you? " she asked. " Just leave everything alone, will you? "

" It is just…. I feel a little uncomfortable. "

" Undo the seatbelt then, " she suggested patiently.

" No it is not the seatbelt making me uncomfortable. Well it is uncomfortable, it has me in a death grip after all. No it is the car itself. "

Christie was surprised. She threw a glance around the interior. Dirty but nothing more.

" What's wrong with it? "

Brad looked around and then moved closer to speak in a conspiratorial whisper. 

" It's not ours. "

Christie looked at him for a second before bursting out laughing. 

" Did the hotwiring give it away? " she joked. She made an effort to stop laughing and tried to speak in a calm voice. " Of course it's not ours. You've never been in a stolen car before? "

Brad shifted uneasily and shook his head.

" We've obviously moved in very different circles. It just seems….. wrong, " he said primly.

" Oh Brad, that's sweet. That really is. You don't mind getting into a life or death fight but you get pangs of conscience stealing a car. Well, I suppose you're right. But us hired killers just don't have the luxury of principles like that. It makes our jobs a lot trickier if we have to take our own cars everywhere. I s'pose though we could use the bus service? "

Brad brightened and opened his mouth to speak.

" I'm kidding, you fool. Of course we can't use buses. And even if we did we probably wouldn't pay. "

He pulled a discontented face and didn't push the issue. She flicked him a glance.

" So, who's trying to kill you? " she asked finally.

" I wasn't lying when I said I didn't know. I made a guess after the first three attempts on my life. My house blowing up proved I wasn't just having a spell of bad luck. "

" Now _that's_ sloppy, " Christie commented, pointing a finger in Brad's direction as she drove. " Giving the game away like that. You don't seem to have attracted a very high class of enemy. "

" That's right, rub it in why don't you? I bet the people trying to kill you are pretty high up the social hierarchy. "

" He's the president of an international business conglomerate. Yours, on the other hand, sound like they think the height of sophistication in the world of assassins is to send the mark a box of poisoned chocolates, " Christie remarked with a grin.

" Should I not have eaten those? " Brad asked, his eyes wide.

She threw him a horrified look.

" Tell me you didn't! " she demanded.

She was answered with a loud snort of laughter.

" There was no box of chocolates. Even my enemies would surely not stoop that low. Still, I am glad you have warned me about that ploy. I might very easily have fallen for that without your words of wisdom. "

The mocking tone of his voice irritated Christie. 

" Judging by the degree of intelligence you've shown so far in our acquaintance, I will take that at face value, " she stated.

There was a sudden air of tension in the car. Brad wondered if he'd pushed the banter too far.

" I did not mean to offend you, " he offered eventually.

She didn't look at him.

" I don't know you. I don't know if you're stupid enough to have fallen for that or not. So don't mock me. I don't take mockery well. "

There was silence for a few moments. Brad seemed to be looking thoughtfully out of the windows. She stifled a sigh. _Damn him for making her feel stupid and uncomfortable. Damn him for making her look so gullible. Who did he think he was to tease her like this? Nobody teased her. Nobody. _

She was about to vent a little more of her anger at him when, with a sudden movement, he threw himself headfirst down onto her legs. 

It was only long years of learning to cope with the unexpected that kept the car on the road and under control.

" What the hell do you think you're doing? " she snarled, flicking several incredulous glances down at him. " If you don't move your face off me right now, I'll remove your tongue with a rusty pair of pliers. "

" Keep driving! Act normal! " was the hissed response.

" This isn't normal! I don't normally have some guy pressing his face onto me while I'm driving! "

Hesitantly, Brad crawled up and peered out the back window, ducking low in his seat.

" What are you playing at? " Christie growled. 

" That was one of them! He's one of the ones who tried to kill me! " he said urgently. 

" Did you consider calmly mentioning it to me so I could get a look at him, before drawing his attention to the car by lunging at me? Damn Brad, you're really not making this easy for me! I should just kick you out of the car now. "

Brad felt more than a little stupid after her stinging verbal assault. 

" That would probably have been a better idea, " he agreed in a quiet voice.

" Uhuh? You think?! " Christie fumed and flicked a glance in the rear view mirror and fumed again. " He's following us now. Really good job Brad. "

" He's following us? " Brad repeated aghast.

Christie shook her head in disgust and put her foot down on the accelerator. 

" Right, here's the plan. First chance we get, you're going in the boot of the car. Then I'll… have a little chat with our pursuer. Try and convince him to move on. You keep absolutely silent. If I think you're breathing too loudly, I'll hand you over, understand? "

" I understand, " Brad said in a small voice, as Christie swerved round a corner and out onto the country roads. 

When the following car had been out of sight for a few moments, she slammed the car to a stop and rushed from the car. Due to Brad's extreme speed and agility, he was in the boot in a matter of seconds. 

As she slammed it close, she fixed him with a steely gaze.

" If I have to kill him, I'm charging you. And I ought to warn you, I don't come cheap. "

He was in the darkness before he had chance to answer. 

He felt the car rock slightly as she settled herself to lean against the back of the car. After a couple of minutes, he heard a car pull up. Then the sound of a car door slamming and footsteps. 

" Christie, " a male voice said by way of greeting.

" Joachim, " she returned, her voice even and controlled.

_She knew him!_ For the first time, Brad wondered if Christie was entirely the best choice for an ally when it came to assassins. He'd expected her to know the protocol of assassination, but he hadn't considered her knowing the assassins themselves.

" Thought it was you, " the man said.

" And so it was. "

Her voice gave nothing away.

" How are you? " he asked after a moment's silence.

" Excuse me? "

Brad flinched. She didn't sound happy about that question.

" I was just wondering. I didn't see you after Madrid. "

She gave a harsh laugh.

" What did you want? A postcard? "

" I thought… " the man began but Brad felt the car rock as Christie stood up suddenly.

" You thought wrong. Now, why are you following me? What do you want? "

There was a long pause.

" I'm not following you. I saw you go by and I thought I'd say hello. "

" Yeah right. You must think I'm stupid. "

" I think you're cruel and sadistic, which coming from a fellow workman is really saying something, but I don't think you're stupid, " the man answered easily.

Brad flinched for the inevitable gunshot. But it didn't come. Instead he heard Christie laugh again, a genuinely amused sound this time.

" What are you doing here Joachim? " she asked, her voice friendlier.

" I'm looking for someone. Same as you I guess. "

" `Looking`? " she echoed incredulously. " On the run, are they? "

" Unfortunately yes. I've been tracking him from the wilds of China. I don't know where he thinks he's going. He can't run forever. "

" Maybe he's got friends in this part of the world. "

The man laughed.

" Lets hope. You and I both know how trustworthy friends can be. "

" Do you need a hand? " Christie offered, almost causing Brad to bite through his lip in alarm. " Give me his details and I'll see if I can't track him down. "

" And let you steal the hit? I don't think so. I've got half a million riding on this. "

" Half a million? " Christie squeaked. " Pounds or dollars? "

" Why are you so surprised? You've worked for a lot more than that. "

" I'm just… I'm surprised they went for an in-house worker like you instead of an outsider like me, " she finished smoothly.

Silence again.

" What are _you_ doing here Christie, " the man asked, his voice suddenly low and curious. " Something of a coincidence isn't it? "

Brad heard Christie sigh deeply. He didn't want her to have to kill this man. Not for him. Equally, he wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't hand him over. 

" Not such a coincidence, " she answered after a pause.

" How so? "

Brad steeled himself for a fight even as his heart sank. It could only ever have been a dream. 

" I'm following you of course Joachim. Did you honestly think I forgot Madrid? "

Brad was stunned by her. Even more stunned by the sultry note he heard in her voice. This was most definitely not what he had intended.

" Really? " Joachim asked hesitantly. " You didn't wait around. You were just gone. "

" I didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't get what you did for me out of my head. I had to leave. "

Footsteps. Someone leaving? Or someone moving closer to someone else? Brad found himself scowling even as he listened intently.

" But you found me. So what does that mean? " Joachim asked, his voice holding an undeniable note of eagerness.

" It means, Joachim, " Christie purred, her voice even more seductive, " that if you play your cards right, once you finish this little assignment, you and I could… meet up. If you like, that is. "

" Why wait until this assignment is over? " the man asked, and Brad heard more footsteps, getting closer to the car. 

Brad wondered at what point he would be compelled to get out of the car and batter the man senseless. He was thinking that point was sooner rather than later.

" Because, I'm working too, " she murmured. " Girl's got to do and all that. But you let me know when you've found your friend and we'll renegotiate. Hmm? "

" Okay, that's a deal. I'll be in touch Christie. "

Footsteps, this time moving away. Car door. Car engine. Then the car moving away. Brad waited for a few moments. The boot opened and light flooded in. Christie's face looked like she was ready to throttle someone with her bare hands, ( which, Brad thought, she very probably was. )

" Get. Out, " she spat through gritted teeth.

When Brad didn't move straight away she reached in and started dragging him out by his arm.

" Get out! Get out! Get out! "

When he was finally stood by the side of the road, she slapped him hard across the cheek. He held his footing but put a hand to his stinging face.

" What was that for? " he demanded.

She raised her hand to slap him again but caught herself. 

" Your behaviour in the car earlier. Now, just get in and lets go, " she ordered.

Obediently, Brad returned to the car. Christie climbed in beside him and they started driving again.

" So, " Brad ventured after a moment. " One of your would-be boyfriends is trying to kill me huh? "

" That's right, " she agreed. He was struck by the curiously jubilant tone of her voice.

" I would be so disappointed if you lowered your standards to entertaining some failed killer who can't even dispose of little old me, " he commented acidly. " But if you wish to go back to your… `friend` please do not let me hold you up. "

" If for one moment I actually thought you were genuinely jealous Brad, you would be out of this car so fast your head wouldn't stop spinning 'til next Tuesday, " she responded. 

She was smiling now! Brad felt unusually sour. _Joachim the king of botch-job assassinations had brought a smile to her face!_

He frowned and looked out of the window. The glee he had felt when he first realised someone was actually trying to kill him, thus giving him an excuse to trail after the white-haired killer, was being rapidly overridden by the frustration of being with Christie and yet being completely unable to make her look his way twice. 

" Please tell me you're not sulking. "

" I am just hurt and disappointed, " he answered. " But do not let me bring you down on your good day. "

She turned to look at him briefly.

" Is this a `man thing` or a `you thing`? "

" I'm just pleased you have found a moment of joy. "

" Did it occur to you that knowing who the assassin is might tell me who the employer was? " she asked irritably.

" Yes it did but I preferred to wallow in my jealousy, thank you very much. "

" And this is one of the reasons I chose to be an assassin and not a bodyguard. If only I had been graced with the contract on your life, my day would be considerably brighter. "

Brad didn't respond and she flicked another look at him. He was slumped in his seat, his face resting on his fist, staring grimly out of the window. It was so strange. Here was a man that she could very easily have been paid to kill. The weight of the attempts on his life seemed to hang over him, despite his teasing and flirting. And why shouldn't it? She accepted people trying to kill her because it was her job. But it wasn't Brad's. He hadn't volunteered for this. Someone for some reason though had decided he had to die. Briefly, irrationally, Christie felt annoyed that this decision hadn't been cleared with her first. 

" For what it's worth, " she ventured, her voice unusually hesitant, " I'll help you. "

She kept her eyes fixed on the road. She felt him turn to her. _Don't look at him. Maybe he'll have the sense to just accept it and keep his mouth shut._ He opened his mouth to talk but she shook her head.

" Lets just have a little quiet time Brad, while I ponder on the magnitude of the mistake I just made. "


	4. 4

" It's about time we got a new car, " Christie announced after they'd been driving most of the day. She wasn't entirely sure where she was taking them but every instinct told her to just get the hell away. 

" We're stealing another? " Brad asked, a note of horror creeping into his voice.

" _We_ didn't steal the last one. I did. But perhaps you're right. A new car won't throw them that much off our trail. Even as it is, if they're only halfway decent assassins it won't be too hard for them to keep track of us. "

Her companion didn't answer. He was fiddling with the tip of his thick plait of hair, his lips set in a dissatisfied line.

" I'm doing the best I can, " she insisted. _What was this sudden need to defend herself? Never, absolutely never before in her life, had she felt she needed to excuse or justify her behaviour. Yet here she was, and even more was coming._

" It's just, I'm not used to having someone else around to worry about. Like I said, I'm an assassin, not a bodyguard. I've never had to look at things with a mind to preserving a life, instead of taking it. "

" Apart from your own. "

She was shocked by the hard note in his voice. She was as shocked as if he'd just leant across and slapped her. He wasn't even looking at her. She struggled for words, but could find none. Swallowing hard, she turned her full attention back to the road, noting signs to a large service station.

The service station was busy even with the sun just dipping below the horizon. There were people everywhere, most of them heading into the small complex of shops and cafes. She didn't like leaving Brad on his own but they needed petrol and the two of them together would be too noticeable. She headed towards the petrol pumps and parked in a space so she could see the car when she paid for the petrol. 

" Stay here. Keep a low profile. I'll just get some petrol and we'll be on our way. "

He nodded and sank down into his seat. She sighed and climbed from the car. _He should be grateful! Here she was, putting her own life at risk, spending her own precious time, protecting this man she barely knew! And he had the absolute nerve to pass judgement on the way she lived her life. Yes, she had looked out for herself. Why should she feel ashamed of that? No-one else was going to look out for her. Too many people had tried to take advantage of her in the past. So she'd learnt fast. Christie looked after Christie and she did it well. Why then did she feel so grubby all of a sudden?_

He watched her go in to pay for the petrol. He watched her graceful, easy movements, the slight sway of her hips as she walked. He shook his head and slammed a fist against the dashboard. _And this was why there were people trying to kill him, no doubt. Why hadn't he kept his mouth shut? She was going out of her way for him, when he had offered her nothing in return, and he'd still managed to insult her. If his feet were as clumsy as his mouth tended to be, he would be no fighter at all. _

_He had meant to cast no aspersions on her lifestyle. Who was he to judge? If she was reprehensible in any way, what did that make the man who loved her? He'd been thinking so much of what he'd asked of her, the serious risks that he had never considered when he started out to find her. When this had started, he'd thought only of finding her and using it as something to talk about with her. Instead, things were getting serious. _

_They'd found him. Despite his best efforts. And he had dragged her into it with him. _

He climbed from the car, Christie's insistence that he stay hidden entirely forgotten, and headed for the shops. People milled around him, a few giving him strange looks. He was accustomed to it. He did tend to stick out, what with being six foot and having long white hair. Disheartened and morose, he went into one of the small gift shops. 

_Hallmark_ was not currently producing a card for such an occasion as he found himself facing, there was no Thank you for saving me from your fellow assassins card on the market yet. He would have to find something else. 

Chocolate perhaps. He considered the brightly wrapped boxes thoughtfully. Surely, a hardened killer such as Christie was not immune to the allure of chocolate. Or perhaps it was unwise to lead her into the way of temptation. Did assassins eat chocolate? The rustlings of sweet paper would surely give them away as they stalked their prey, not to mention how much slower they would be with the excess weight of an ample stomach.

No, not chocolate. Brad looked at the buckets of flowers. He personally liked flowers, but… how to present them to Christie? He contemplated the moment when he would hand over a bunch of carnations to his assassin companion. The inevitable look of confused derision and the smart remark she would be compelled to make. Flowers were also out of the question. Which only left…

She'd taken her eyes off the car for a matter of seconds to hand over the cash and he was gone! She scanned the crowds frantically. How could a six-foot white haired Asian guy disappear so quickly? Her heart thrummed nervously in her chest and she felt a throb of anxiety stop her from concentrating fully on the situation. _Relax and think_, she ordered herself. _He can't have gone far. _There had been no sounds of a scuffle. He would surely have called to her. Unless… unless he was already sedated. Halfway to god-knows-where in the back of a van! Her inner core of control cut into her panicked thoughts: _No, they'd just kill him. They don't need him alive. They'd have left him in the car if he was dead. He's gone from the car so he's… running? Someone chasing him already?_

 She tried to put herself in the place of an assassin chasing Brad down. Not too big a leap of the imagination surely, but for some reason she couldn't even begin to consider it. He was too irrational. Too unpredictable.

Maybe that was it. What was the last thing she'd expect him to do? Wander off down the motorway? No, he was erratic but not suicidal. No, he'd… what… go shopping? 

Taking a deep breath, Christie plunged into the shopping complex. She darted past the shops, peering in each one as she went. Three shops in and she skidded to a halt. Feeling angrier than she had done in a while, she marched into the gift shop and made for the tall man stood buying something.

" Hey! What do you think you're doing? " she started to demand, grabbing his elbow to spin him round.

She was flat on her back before the sentence was complete. She struggled to get breath back into her lungs. Looking up, she saw Brad looking down at her, a nervous smile on his face and a gleam of panic in his eyes.

" Oops, " he commented. " Sorry about that but you really shouldn't have snuck up on me. "

He held a hand out to pull her to her feet, which she ignored. She was too busy being outraged at him, but more significantly, at herself. _He'd floored her! Brad Wong had floored her! He'd thrown a move on her before she'd even realised! How many other men could she say that about?_

" Hey lady, is this guy bothering you? " a male passer by asked, helping her to her feet. Christie didn't take her eyes off Brad as he fidgeted uncertainly in front of her.

" Yeah, he is… I mean no. I'm fine, thanks. "

Letting the good Samaritan go on about his business, Christie stared Brad into submission. He faced her warily and his lips crinkled into a fretful half-smile. Finding nothing to say, Brad instead stuck the small paper bag out to her.

She took it apprehensively by its string handles. Even as she reached in, she kept her eyes fixed on him. She frowned as her hand met something soft and fluffy. She pulled his offering out and regarded it doubtfully. 

It was a small, stuffed bear wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. 

" You were going to tear me to shreds no matter what I got you, so I figured I would go the whole way and get you this, " Brad explained as Christie remained staring at the bear mutely.

She nodded slowly.

" Hmm, " she mused. " So, what's its name? "

He was taken aback by her surprisingly calm response. She looked to him for an answer.

" You get me a bear and you don't name it? " she asked, slightly incredulous. 

He frowned and shrugged his shoulders.

" Billy? " he suggested helplessly.

" Billy the Bear, " Christie considered, looking back at the bear. " Billy it is. Come on, we'd better head off. "

_It was incredible. No_, Brad amended, _She was incredible. Somehow, despite her being the one who had ended up on the floor, she had won that round. He was the one left speechless and staring as she headed off to the car, Billy firmly clasped in her hand. _

He smiled to himself and followed after her.

They drove for another couple of hours before Christie finally pulled to a halt outside a small travel lodge. Brad was heartily relieved. Not so much for his own need for sleep, he was tired but not excessively so, but for Christie's sake. She had insisted on doing all of the driving, despite Brad giving her quotations of the various statistics of car accidents that could be put down to fatigue. She hadn't eaten either, refusing all his offers of food. 

The lack of food and sleep didn't appear to have touched her though. She didn't appear haggard or stressed. She was her normal smooth, controlled self. Her eyes were alert and her gait as she entered the motel was as steady as ever. 

As she booked a room for the night, he wondered if it would be worth his life to make a crack about a double bed. One look at her told him the answer. He remained silent. 

She led him up the stairs to their room and unlocked the door. She gestured for him to go in but he hung back. She scowled.

" I doubt they're mind readers Brad. Even I'm not good enough to get into someone's room before they've even decided to book it. "

She paused, and then pulled the door to.

" Or maybe that's what they expected us to think. "

" Before your paranoia takes you completely over, perhaps I should explain I was merely thinking along the lines of ladies first? " Brad commented as Christie considered the possible dangers.

" And they say chivalry's dead, " he muttered as he moved by her and entered the room. 

Flicking the light on, he froze. 

It was a nice enough little room. T.V., en suite bathroom, kettle, mini bar. 

What made him stop though was the double bed. His heart did something funny in his chest and he gulped. Once again, he wasn't entirely sure how to react. He hadn't really paid attention to her booking in at the desk, he'd been too busy weighing up the consequences of making a lewd suggestion. And she'd outdone him. Or was this a trick question of sorts?

" Changed your mind, have you? " he asked, keeping his voice light and even.

She pushed past him and threw her case onto the bed.

" Down, boy, " she said dryly. " We can't both sleep at the same time, is all. "

She removed her laptop from its case and began plugging it in. She paid him no attention whatsoever. If this was a come-on, it was the lamest one Brad had ever experienced. No, her earlier comment coupled with her complete lack of interest in him told him that he still had some way to go if he wished to win her over.

Smothering a sigh, he began to go through the comfortable routine of making a cup of tea. He watched her at the computer for a few moments. Her shock of white hair fell over her sculpted, marble face. Her bright blue, glittering eyes were fixed on the screen. Still working on the computer, she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her boots off. She placed them neatly to one side and then began to peel her jumper off. 

Seeing a flash of her bare, pale skin underneath, Brad coughed lightly. She jerked to a halt. She raised her eyebrows and laughed at herself.

" I completely forgot you were there, " she murmured, half to herself, as she pulled the jumper back down.

_She really knows how to make a man feel appreciated_, Brad grumbled to himself. 

" Would a continuous loop of my inane chatter remind you of my presence? " he asked sourly.

" Don't you threaten me, " she warned. She was silent for a few minutes then switched off the laptop. " It's all still working. Everything's there. I don't know whether to be pleased or not. "

She wandered into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. A few seconds later he heard the drumming of the shower. Alone at last, Brad sighed heavily and sat down with his cup of tea. _Would she notice_, he wondered,_ if he did actually end up being assassinated? Probably not so long as whoever it was did it quietly. _In his heart, Brad knew he was being childish. Yet how else could he feel? He loved her. It was a simple fact. And she barely seemed aware of his existence, except for the frequent scoldings he got for talking too much. He sighed again and looked around the room. What was he to do? 

He brightened a little as a thought struck him. He knew what he could do. He started for the door, then paused as he remembered the furious spark in her eyes when he had disappeared at the service station. Tearing a strip from one of the leaflets on the counter, he penned her a quick note and slipped it under her mug of tea. He stood back, satisfied with his efforts. Then he left.

_He'd floored her! Even now she could barely get that thought out of her head. _The shower was hot and soothing but inexplicably she could find no peace. _This man, for all his chatter and flirting, was a supremely competent fighter. She'd been well aware of the rank he'd achieved in the recent DOA tournament, but she hadn't really considered the skill that entailed. He'd been stopped only by the ninjas. He'd placed higher than she had. The implication was that he was a better fighter than she was. She didn't know how to deal with that. He acted so much the fool it had been too easy for her to treat him as one. But, she was forced to admit, he was no fool. He could most likely take care of himself. So why was he here? _

She ignored the numerous insinuations her paranoia instantly suggested. _He was more than she had realised,_ she understood finally._ And she… liked him. There. She'd admitted it to herself. She'd liked seeing the look of surprised hope flutter across his face when he'd seen the double bed. She'd enjoyed ignoring him and feeling his eyes on her. Hell, she'd even made as if she was stripping in front of him. But he'd been too much of a gentleman to allow it. _The thought of his hesitant cough made her both smile and sigh. _It would have been much easier to move things on if he'd allowed her to undress. She wouldn't have had to really consider the mistake she was making. But Brad was a gentleman, and she had to admit, she liked that about him too. _

Yet still she came back to the ultimate reality. _He was living in a dream world. He didn't know her. They were strangers to one another. And just supposing she allowed herself to make the biggest mistake of her career and fall for him, where could it go? Nowhere. Would he be content to sit and wait in the hotel room while she went out to carry out a kill? She doubted it. He would be a liability. An attractive, amusing, diverting one, but a liability none the less. _

She sighed again and brought her imagination back to heel. _No romantic involvements, that was the rule. Well_, _none that last longer than a night. Would that be enough? It wasn't the familiar burst of lust she was experiencing though. Sure she could bed him but after that? Would that get him out of her system? Maybe, or maybe it would just make things worse. She didn't want to encourage him. No, probably best just to sort this out and move on. Leave him and his dreamworld behind, enticing as it was._

 Luxuriating in the heat of the shower, Christie suddenly realised what the noise she had heard a few moments previously was. The door. And she understood the significance of that only too well. He had wandered off again.

She leapt from the shower and pulled one of the cheap complementary bathrobes on. Hurrying into the room, she found it empty as she expected. As she made for the door, she caught sight of a slip of paper tucked under a mug on the sideboard.

Gone out it said. Just as unhelpful as Christie had come to expect Brad to be. 

Feeling rather pleased with himself, Brad made his way through the small lounge back to the stairs leading to his and Christie's room. He threaded his way easily through the tables of late night drinkers. Mainly business men and lorry drivers. The bottle of red wine he had tucked under his arm had been purchased from the off-license just across the road. He had barely been gone five minutes. He could go back upstairs and set it out in some nice glasses and surprise her when she got out of the shower. Whenever that might be. Brad had noticed she tended to spend excessively large amounts of time in the shower. 

Or, he mused, seeing her storm towards him, he could use it to knock her out cold should her fury be too much and she forget her promise to look after him. 

Even as minor anxiety welled up in his stomach seeing the tight set of her lips, his breath caught slightly in his throat when he looked at her. 

She was dressed only in a white bathrobe that accentuated her pale flawless skin and revealed more than it concealed. Her hair was damp and the drops of water in it made it sparkle silver. Her eyes sparkled even under the dim lounge lights. 

She strode up to him and placed her hands on her hips. He noticed she didn't try grabbing him this time.

" Get upstairs, " she spat, pointing to the stairs.

Brad hesitated, unsure if he wanted to be shut in a room alone with a furious assassin.

" If he won't go I will darling! " one of the drinkers called out from where he was sat watching the unfolding drama. 

" Hey! " Brad protested. " She asked me first! "

Restraining the urge to throttle him, Christie remained pointing silently at the stairs. 

As Brad bowed his head and made his way to the flight of stairs a loud cheer went up from their audience. _They wouldn't be cheering like that,_ he mused, _if they knew why she was actually chivvying him back to the room. If she had planned what they thought she did, Brad would be moving a damn sight quicker_. 

He suddenly realised she'd paused. He turned back and saw her looking absently out of the window. 

" Christie? " he prompted.

She turned back to him instantly.

" Get upstairs, " she repeated, all rage gone from her voice.

He placed the bottle down on the counter and began looking for a bottle opener. He heard her come in after him and shut the door wordlessly.

" It is your fault you know, my friend. If I were not so confident in your abilities to look after me, I would perhaps not take so many risks. If you tended to bungle things, then perhaps I would want to stay tucked up under the bed. But no, you are more than competent and I know I can trust you. "

" You'd think, wouldn't you? " she remarked quietly, unexpectedly right behind him. He heard the tiny click and then felt the coldness of the gun against the back of his head. 

" Christie? " he asked, all of a sudden terribly unsure of the situation. 

He heard her sigh wearily.

" I'm sure you know the drill. No sudden moves and do as I tell you. "

He swallowed hard.

" Well, this is a surprise. "

" Isn't it just? Now, move into the middle of the floor and kneel down. I'm getting a sore arm reaching up like this. "

Her voice was low and tired, but definitely serious.

" I suppose we can't talk about this? " he asked, waiting for the response he knew was coming.

" What's there to say? I'm an assassin and I know how to play the game. "

He moved hesitantly to where she guided him and knelt down.

" Those people downstairs, they saw us together, they'll know it was you, " he pointed out, forcing his voice to stay calm.

" They saw you with the wine, we had a bad relationship. You got drunk and were abusive. I killed you in self-defence. It'll hold up long enough for me to make my exit. "

He thought quickly about what would be the best strategy for escape. But suddenly realised he didn't want to. If Christie could be rotten to the core, what hope did it hold for the rest of the world? After the last few days, he would have sworn he knew her. At least well enough to trust her. Yet here was this. He sighed and his shoulders slumped.

" Don't feel too bad Brad, half a million's a lot of money. " She paused then called out. " You might as well come in Joachim. "

The door opened and Brad watched the other assassin come in. The man seemed displeased with the situation but hardly likely to challenge it.

" You saw me then? " he asked resignedly.

Christie shrugged nonchalantly.

" And now you're stealing the hit? " Joachim shook his head. " Not fair, Christie, not fair at all. "

She shrugged again.

" It fell in my lap. I didn't realise what it was worth until I met up with you. "

" So why's he still alive? " Joachim prompted. " Surely he should be dead by now? "

" I was waiting for you to catch up. I wanted confirmation about who to claim the money from. I presumed it was Delacroix, but I wanted to be sure. "

Joachim looked even more irritated.

" Of course it's Delacroix. Don't tell me, you'd have raised the price if the employer were a little higher up in the world? "

Once again Christie shrugged.

" Naturally. How long did it take for you to work out your mark was with me? "

" Not too long. I was surprised about you being around, and while I hoped the story you fed me about Madrid was true, I was pretty sure it wasn't. All I needed then was to know that you two fought in the same tournament. "

Christie nodded, then smiled silkily. She moved closer to Joachim, not taking her eyes off Brad kneeling on the floor. She leant closer to the assassin until her body was right against him.

" What makes you think I was telling fibs about Madrid? " she asked huskily.

Joachim paused and turned a stunned face to her.

" You were serious? " he asked, his voice low and rough.

She smiled again. 

" We've even been provided with wine, to celebrate the beginning of our beautiful friendship. Pour some out for us and I'll finish up the business here. "

Brad fumed to himself. _What a bloody stupid, awful, nasty world. He was heartily glad to be leaving it._ He looked up at her as she levelled the gun at him. Her eyes fixed on him thoughtfully.

Then completely unexpectedly, her lips curved into a crooked smile.

In a second she had crossed the floor and cuffed Joachim twice about the head sharply with the gun. He fell limply to the floor.

" _Twice_ I've pulled that on you now! " she mocked the prone man.

While Brad was still forcing his heart back to its normal rate, Christie was tugging the man across the floor. She pulled him up onto the bed and then pulled the belt from her bathrobe and bound Joachim's hands to the bedpost. 

Her robe fell open to reveal her underwear as she searched the unconscious man. She pulled out his wallet and a palm pilot. As she flicked the small computer into life, she threw Brad an annoyed glance.

" Quit staring at me already, " she snapped.

Coming back to his senses, Brad realised he had indeed been staring at her. Stifling his awkwardness, he threw his hands up defensively.

" After what you just put me through? I think I'm entitled to one free ogle. "

She glared at him and pulled the robe shut. 

" After I just saved your life, you mean? Well, if I'd known that was the price for saving you I'd have gone out and given Joachim directions to our room when I saw him. "

" Be reasonable, my friend. You did pretend you were going to kill me. Hardly a kind and caring act. "

" Kind and caring don't tend to be part of an assassin's job description. Now, get your things together. We have to move again. "

She was already halfway through dressing herself. 

" Don't _I_ have time for a shower? " Brad asked irritably, tugging his trainers back on. 

Christie threw him an incredulous look. 

" No, no shower, no T.V. and no quick cup of coffee. We move NOW. Yeah I know, " she added, seeing his sour look, " who'd have thought assassination attempts could be so inconvenient? "

Five minutes later they were in the car again. Despite his protestations, Christie had overridden Brad and taken the steering wheel again.

She heard him sigh heavily and then his stomach grumble. She flicked a glance at him. He seemed decidedly sulky.

" Would you cheer up? You're alive aren't you? " she demanded.

" Yeah, thanks for that. " His tone left her in some doubt about how to accept his words.

" You're not still upset about my little… joke, are you? " she asked after a moment.

" Upset? Who would I be upset? I found it all perfectly hilarious. "

" It was the best idea at the time, " she stated unapologetically. " Your drunk-man-act is impressive, but I wasn't sure when I saw Joachim outside how well you could act scared and near death. And I needed to know if I was right about who was paying for the kill. "

She heard him mumble something.

" What was that? " she insisted.

He turned to look at her, flicking a strand of his long white hair out of his decidedly angry amber eyes.

" I said: I wasn't scared, I was disgusted. "

In spite of herself she was intrigued.

" Disgusted? " she echoed.

" Yes, that you weren't the person I thought, I hoped, you were. "

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head.

" One more time Brad: you don't know me. Got it yet? "

There was silence for a long time, before he spoke again.

" So tell me. "

" No. Go to sleep. "

He shrugged.

" What harm can it do? "

" None, but I'm tired, and I'm not going through it with you. "

" So let _me_ drive and _you_ sleep. "

" No! Now just stop bothering me or I'll stick pins in your eyes. "

" Is that a you thing or an assassin thing? " he asked, echoing her words from earlier, much to her annoyance.

" What? What do you mean? " she snarled.

" The constant threatening. Ninety percent of your orders are backed up with graphic and imaginative threats. I was wondering if all assassins spoke like that. "

" I don't know. Why don't you go ask them? In fact why don't you start with the one we left back there? "

Brad fell silent. Christie was just beginning to enjoy the peaceful silence when he started up again.

" So, tell me about your childhood, " he said reasonably.

She pulled a face.

" Are you playing psychiatrist now? You want to find out what traumatic event drove me to this line of work? "

" Did a traumatic event drive you to this? "

" Yeah, my mother bought me Malibu Barbie instead of Swan Lake Barbie, " she answered caustically.

" How am I supposed to get to know you better, if you keep hiding behind sarcasm? " Brad asked patiently.

" Anyone would think there was a message for you in that. "

" What kind of message? " 

" The same kind as a gun to the head. "

" You already gave me one message like that for the night. A man could take that badly, you know. "

Stifling a heaving sigh, Christie bit her lip. _Don't let him drag you into these games. You're tired and emotional. Who knows what you could say. Best just to stay out of it._

Her policy decided, Christie resisted all of Brad's attempts to draw her into conversation. She even ignored his highly irritating rendition of a Cantonese drinking song he had learnt.

Eventually even Brad realised he could not entice her out of silence. Seemingly caught between poking her hard in the ribs to get her attention or going to sleep, he wisely chose the latter option. 

Seeing him slumped against the window, his white hair a messy halo, Christie breathed a sigh of relief. Finally she could get a moment's peace. 


	5. 4

He licked his lips and moaned, shifting uncomfortably from where he had been slumped against the car window.

" About time too. "

Christie's voice cut through his sleepy daze. He turned to her.

" We're _still_ driving? " he demanded incredulously. " Evading assassins seems remarkably similar to taking a road trip. "

She didn't answer.

" Where are we going? Or are we just going to keep driving until the assassins get bored? " he asked, looking at their surroundings. They seemed to be coming into a larger city. The sun had risen and there were plenty of people on the streets. Not as late as midday, but certainly after eightish.

" I was not tired until I closed my eyes, " he commented, massaging the bridge of his nose and trying to shake the last vestiges of drowsiness away.

Still no answer.

" Seems very nice weather today, don't you think? "

" Do consciousness and chatter go hand in hand for you Brad? "

Brad raised his eyebrows and smirked.

" As much as consciousness and grumpiness do for you, Christie my friend. "

" I think you'll find Brad that my grumpiness correlates not so much with my consciousness as yours. " Christie paused and flicked him a half-glance. She sniffed a couple of times. " You smell. "

He assumed a wounded expression and opened his mouth to protest before deciding that she had a point.

" It is only to be expected when I have been running around hiding for the past few days with a lady who seems to consider any shower her exclusive territory, " he insisted defensively.

" Oh and you don't have a tongue in your head to say: Hey Christie, I'm beginning to stink like I've stuck my head in a compost heap, mind if I borrow the bathroom for five minutes? "

" I asked at the last hotel, remember? But you said no. So it is your fault. "

" What _I_ remember is the comatose assassin on the floor. Surely even you can figure out why I said no shower under those circumstances? "

Brad scowled and sank back down into his seat, now painfully aware of the rather unpleasant odour that surrounded him.

" There were three comatose assassins on the floor at the hotel before that, " he remarked snidely. " Are they your calling card? So people can say: Aha! Christie the assassin was here! You can tell by all the unconscious hitmen. "

" If you'd rather I leave them conscious that's fine by me. "

She pulled the car over and turned the engine off. Climbing out of the car, she grabbed her rucksack and laptop and started off down the street. Brad watched her uncomprehendingly. She swung back round and fixed him with an irate glare.

" Are you coming or not? "

He scrambled out of the car and ran after her, dodging people as he went.

" So where are we going? We do have a plan? " he asked, falling into step beside her.

" Leave it to me. I know what I'm doing and I don't appreciate questions. I'm helping you so all I need you to do is what I tell you and keep quiet, or at least as quiet as you can. "

" Shut up and obey then? " Brad verified in a neutral tone of voice.

" That's the way it's got to be. This is why I work alone. "

" Are you sure it's not just because no-one else can stand your sunny disposition? " he asked in an undertone.

Christie seemed to know her way around the town and was leading them towards the centre of the city. There were more and more people around and Brad found himself constantly weaving in and out. Christie on the other hand seemed to cut a swathe through the crowds. It appeared that, subconsciously, everyone recognised a predator and moved out of her way.

She led him onto a street of shops and then paused in thought as she considered each one. Eventually she caught hold of his wrist and they made their way into a large department store. Christie moved purposefully through the aisles and into Men's wear. Brad fought a sinking feeling in his stomach.

" While I understand you do not want to dress in ribbons and lace, isn't all this a little butch for you? " he asked casually, fingering a pair of black linen trousers.

" Cute, " she threw back, unimpressed. She caught sight of the trousers he was absent-mindedly admiring and picked them up. She held them against him, examined them briefly, then put them over her arm and moved away.

" So I smell and I dress badly, is that what this is about? " Brad asked, trailing after her.

Christie was currently holding a cream cotton shirt and a brown t-shirt against him, apparently unable to decide.

" No, you smell and your clothes smell worse. There's no point in you washing if you're just going to put those filthy rags back on. "

" Filthy rags? " Brad repeated in outrage. " I will have you know I like these clothes very much. "

Christie fumed and rolled her eyes, putting the shirt back but keeping hold of the t-shirt. She looked around and then located the shoes.

" I'm sure if they were clean they'd be fine. But they're not and I would much rather buy you new clothes than wash your old ones. "

She picked up a pair of brown leather sandals and held them up for Brad to see.

" Like these? " she asked.

Brad was still processing her last comment but nodded blankly.

" _I_ will buy my clothes, not you. I came for help, not charity, " he said sharply after a moment's consideration.

Christie smirked, her bright eyes glittering.

" Touched a nerve have I? " She shrugged and handed the clothes over. " Have it your way. But try them on first. "

" Just because I do not have a regular job, and I would like at this juncture to remind you that your job hardly classifies as such either, it does not mean I am without income, " Brad explained firmly as he allowed Christie to usher him into the changing room and pull the curtain closed.

She leant against the wall outside and folded her arms across her chest.

" Oh yeah? " she called back. " So what _do_ you do? "

" Random good deeds. "

She snorted in laughter, then stared coldly at the man who had just exited the next cubicle and offered her a tentative smile.

" Sounds like it pays well, " she threw back once they were alone again.

" It pays enough, " Brad answered confidently.

" I imagine it was in the course of one of these good deeds that you made the acquaintance of Mr Delacroix? " she asked lightly.

" If you told me more about him I might be able to give you an answer to that. And damn it woman, how did you know what size I am? "

" Part of my job is sizing people up. It comes in handy both when I'm working and when I'm shopping, " she answered with a shrug. " And I'll tell you about Delacroix but not here. "

There was a lot of rustling in the cubicle and Christie shook the curtain impatiently.

" Well come on out, " she demanded.

The curtain was ripped back and Brad stood there with a sullen look on his face. Christie looked him up and down, approving of her choices. His broad shoulders filled the t-shirt admirably, the short sleeves showed off the taut muscles of his arms and the colour set his golden skin off remarkably well.

_He looked… good._

" Those'll do, " Christie said briskly, turning away rapidly and stepping back. " Now get changed again. I need to get something for me. "

Brad pulled the curtain shut and began redressing.

" Do you smell as well then? " he asked. " I hadn't noticed. "

" No I don't, but even if I did I imagine you'd be too smothered by your own stench to notice. " She pressed her hands to her cheeks and wondered why she was flushed. " And keep your nose to yourself, " she added.

" Ah, Christie, you are so sweet. So ladylike. "

He re-emerged and they headed to the counter. Christie surveyed the crowds speculatively as Brad pulled out his wallet and took out some cash.

" I suppose you thought I would try and pay with a credit card, huh? But I am not so stupid, " Brad said smugly. " I know they could track me down by my bank transactions. "

" They don't need to, " Christie said casually. " Joachim's just over there. "

Brad spun round to look as Christie raised a hand in a lazy wave at the hitman.

" Damn, he's really not bad, is he? " Brad asked, wondering why Christie was so relaxed.

" Oh don't kid yourself. He loses a little of my respect every time I see him. If our roles were reversed, if by some staggering roll of the dice you'd managed to get this far, I would make sure that you were dead long before I allowed him to spot me. "

Joachim was moving towards them quickly, his eyes fixed not so much on Brad as Christie.

" Sorry Christie, I think he may be a little angry at you. "

She took her eyes off Joachim and looked at Brad, surprised.

" Why's that your fault? "

" Because the things you did that made him angry, you did for me. "

" I knew what I was agreeing to when I agreed to help you. You think I didn't realise that I might tread on a few toes in the process of giving you a hand? "

Despite the fact there was a decidedly irritated hitman closing in, Brad found himself only able to think of what Christie had just said. _He had considered it all a fun game and had only recently realised what he was asking from Christie when he had asked her for help. It turned out though that she, on the other hand, had known entirely that in helping Brad she would be risking her own life. And she had said yes. _

" I suppose you think that was funny? " Joachim demanded when he reached them.

Christie gave a surprisingly sweet smile.

" My mother always used to say: Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. "

Joachim pulled a face.

" Well there won't be a third time, " he snarled.

" I was frankly amazed that there was a second, " Christie said innocently.

The hitman turned to look at Brad. There was a barely concealed spark of fury in the man's eyes yet Brad found himself completely unafraid.

" Hello, " Brad offered finally.

" So how much are you paying her, huh? How much to get the hound to run with the fox? "

" I'm not sure I like that analogy Joachim, " Christie commented in a cool voice.

" I couldn't give a damn what you like Christie, " Joachim threw back, eyes still locked on Brad's face. " Or maybe it's not money you're paying her, hey? Couldn't say I blame you, if that's the case. Christie may like to play with the big boys but she's still just a pretty piece of flesh, don't you think boy? "

A surge of anger shot through Brad and he was about to lunge forward and tackle the man to the ground when Christie's cool voice sliced through the sudden haze of rage.

" Yeah, he's a guy and I'm not, s'pose that must be it, " Christie agreed lazily. " But you know Joachim, if I'm just a pretty piece of flesh that doesn't say much for you now does it? Considering I've outsmarted not once but twice in this little game already. "

" It ends here Christie, " Joachim said firmly, finally turning back to her. " I came to see you face to face out of courtesy. Now I'll take Mr Wong and finish up business, and you can just finish up your shopping. Interfere and it'll be the last thing you do. "

Brad waited less than five seconds for Christie's response. She laughed in Joachim's face.

" Very menacing, " she applauded him. " Now be serious. You don't really want to mess with me, do you? So why don't you do us both a favour and go back to Delacroix and tell him that I want to see him. I'm willing to come to him, he can name the day; we can have that dinner he offered me, but I want a postponement on the hit until I've spoken to him. "

There was a silence for a long moment as Joachim considered Christie carefully, obviously searching for the trick.

" You want to see him? " he repeated doubtfully. " Why? "

" That's for him and me, " Christie said with a smile. " Now you can try and take me on which neither of us really wants, not to mention the fact you'd be risking your employer's ire by not passing on a message to him that he might be interested in. Or you and I can part on good terms, you can speak to Delacroix, let me get my business done and then re-evaluate the situation. "

The silence this time was much shorter and less dangerous. Joachim nodded finally.

" Fair enough Christie. Just so you know though, if this is a double-cross I will hunt you down and make you regret it. "

" Sure you will, " she agreed reasonably. She paused, looking thoughtfully at Joachim before adding, " Dealcroix's past his best. Perhaps you'd do well to look for different career opportunities. Why don't you have a little word with Rufus Brejniv? I hear he's looking for a reliable operative. "

Joachim nodded curtly.

" I'll bear that in mind. See you Christie, I'll be in touch. " He looked at Brad and smiled tightly. " And I'll be seeing you too Mr Wong. "

He turned smartly and left the shop.

" What are you going to say to Delacroix? " Brad asked finally as he followed Christie into the Ladies wear section.

" Like I said, that's between him and me. "

Christie was even quicker in choosing her own clothes. She had picked up a pair of jeans and a long white shirt and had moved on before Brad had even thought of his next question.

" Will Joachim stick to his word? "

" Probably, but there's no reason to take stupid chances. So don't think you can wander off. "

Brad noticed that they appeared to be in the section devoted to evening wear.

" Am I taking you out to dinner? " he asked hopefully.

" No, Delacroix is, remember? "

" So I'm helping you choose a dress for you to go out on a date with the man who wants me dead? Have I got that right? "

" In one, " Christie congratulated him, considering a long green dress with a mid-thigh split. She put it back on the rack and moved on.

" Won't jeans and a t-shirt do? " he asked sullenly.

Christie threw him a long-suffering look as she rejected a red halter neck.

" Hurry up Christie. If I do not have a shower soon people are going to start keeling over. "

" I'm in charge, not you, " she reminded him.

Her eyes suddenly sparkled as she grabbed a black silk dress up.

" This is it, " she stated. Before Brad had even got a chance to look at it properly she had started for the changing rooms.

She disappeared into a cubicle and Brad hung around morosely wondering how things had panned out the way they had. Christie hitting on Joachim had been one thing but going for dinner with this Delacroix was something else altogether. He listened to the sound of women's chatter that surrounded him and the distant rustlings of material and zips. After a few moments. Christie made a small noise of approval and Brad heard once again the sound of a zipper.

" Aren't you going to show me? " he asked petulantly.

Christie pulled the curtain back and gave an impatient Voila gesture.

The dress was unlike anything Brad would have chosen for her. He had commented earlier about ribbons and lace and while this had neither, it was most definitely ultra-feminine. Bereft of her boots, she stood barefooted and a noticeable two inches shorter than Brad. The black of the silk contrasted with her smooth white skin and cloud of white hair. This was a delicate, fragile Christie that he had never imagined existed.

Still, the scowl rather ruined the effect.

" That's very nice, " he commented when he found his voice again.

" Glad you approve, " Christie said sourly, retreating back into the changing room.

Brad swallowed and reminded his heart to keep beating. _Christie may have mellowed a little but she still showed no signs of romantic interest. None whatsoever. Indeed, the overall effect of Brad forcing his way into her life was that she was going out on a date with someone else. She was going to go out wearing a dress in which she looked heart-stoppingly beautiful and eat dinner with a man who Brad would swear was not good enough for her, and Brad would sit at the hotel and wait for her to come home, all the while wishing she'd stayed just a minute more with him, and then when she did return, he would have to say thank you. He would have to say: Thank you Christie for trampling all over my heart to save my skin._

--------------

Christie booked them in to yet another hotel and Brad began to wonder what it felt like to have a real, honest-to-goodness home. Bohemian he may have been, but certainly not a nomad. Christie ushered him up to the room and threw her things down on the double bed that Brad had rather hopelessly ignored.

" Strip then, " she demanded briskly, holding out her hands.

" Has anyone ever told you what a romantic soul you are? " Brad asked, fingering the buttons of his shirt uncertainly.

" No. Hurry up. "

" You first, " Brad ventured nervously.

A decidedly dangerous expression crept onto Christie's face.

" I swear Brad if I have to spend one more moment in your atmosphere of stench I'm going to suffocate. So take your clothes off so I can send them to be burnt. "

" I think you're exaggerating about the smell, " Brad argued defensively. " You did not complain at all yesterday and stenches the like of which you are complaining about do not suddenly appear over the course of twelve hours. It takes weeks for them to build up. "

" I'm no expert on smells. I just know you need a shower and your clothes are a health hazard. So strip. "

" This is just a ploy to get me naked, " Brad insisted seriously.

" That's right, " Christie agreed tetchily. " All I want is to see your body and this is the only way I could think of. "

" Well it won't work. I refuse to be manipulated like this. "

" Oh damn foiled again, " she cursed tonelessly, dropping her hands and starting to set up her laptop. " Well fine, just don't be long in there because I need a shower too. "

" Heaven forbid you don't use a shower to which you have access, " Brad grumbled as he went into the bathroom.

He peeled off his clothes and had to admit, if only to himself, that they were pretty pungent. But he'd been running since his house had exploded three weeks ago. He hadn't stopped anywhere longer than a single night and more often than not he'd been sleeping outside. Showers were a luxury he had given up in his single-minded pursuit of Christie, the woman he loved and the first name to flash into his head when he had realised there were people trying to kill him.

_And how much further forward was he? While Christie had proved herself strong, capable, determined, she resolutely persisted in her absolute disinterest in him and all he had was a name: Delacroix. _

Dropping the clothes into a bundle on the floor, Brad turned the water on and stepped in to wash away the weeks of acquired grime.

Christie carefully pulled the trousers and t-shirt out of Brad's shopping bags. She refolded them immaculately and laid them out on the bed to wait for him. Realising what she'd just done, she shook them out and threw them back down casually.

_If she was not careful, she was lining herself up for a big fall. Was she losing her grip? Yes, he was good-looking. Tall, well-built, gorgeous eyes she could spend forever and a day studying… _Christie pulled herself up on that line of thought and tried to get back onto a more practical course. _Good-looking, yes, no question.__ A sense of humour that not only was she learning to accept but even appreciate. And he thought so much of her. Not scared, he'd said, but disgusted when he thought she'd betrayed him. _

She took a shuddering breath and tried to get her wayward emotions back under control. Distantly she could hear him singing that damn drinking song, his voice deep and resounding in the shower. _A warm, powerful voice.__ A voice she liked._ In the instant that she realised that she was not irritated by his singing, Christie realised also that she was in big trouble.

Brad surveyed his hair glumly in the mirror. It hung around his shoulders like a dead animal. While Christie's hair was a perfect white, shocking and striking all at once, Brad's tended towards a very light grey and made him look more disreputable than he did already. He plaited it again swiftly, leaving any knots in that wouldn't be untangled in less than a few seconds. He dried himself and then tied the towel around his waist.

He left the bathroom and saw Christie perched on the windowsill, toying idly with her gun and staring down at the street below. His new clothes were lying rumpled on the bed and he could only too easily imagine Christie simply emptying the bag out over the bed. Her own purchases were draped over the back of a chair and the dress was on a hanger behind the door.

Brad tried not to look at the dress too long. He only had to close his eyes to remember the sweep of material as it clung to some curves and brushed over others, the blackness of the silk against her skin, her strange eyes watching him with a half curious, half impatient look…

He tore his eyes away from the dress and looked at Christie.

" Bathroom's free, " he told her.

She nodded absently and brushed past him, picking up her new jeans and shirt as she went. Hearing the rush of water and trying very hard to keep his imagination under control, Brad discarded the towel and slid on the new clothes. The new material felt good against his clean skin and he found himself once again considering Christie's fine choice of clothes for him. He wanted to make a cup of tea but the room lacked a kitchenette. Feeling very much at a loose end, Brad settled for sitting where he had found Christie. He was considerably bigger than her and found it much more difficult to stay balanced on the small perch.

_He knew he had no right to be feeling quite so put out. She wasn't interested In him. It was hardly her fault. Despite that, she was helping him out of a life-threatening situation. He hadn't offered her money, or indeed anything as payment. She was doing it out of the goodness of her heart. Wasn't she? Paranoia was obviously catching._

_What had Brad overheard Bayman say of Christie? That she'd tear your eyes out as soon as look at you? Something like that. But that didn't seem to be true. There had to be something else to her, or why was she doing this? _

Brad sighed and listened to the abrupt termination of the water. It was a surprisingly short shower for Christie. Normally she was at least half an hour. He listened to the sound of her movements and resisted the familiar urge to go to her and explain to her why she should love him. These last few days he wasn't so sure himself.

She came out with her hair damp and slicked back, dressed in her new shirt and jeans. She looked suddenly very young. She looked like a young woman in her early twenties who was just getting ready to spend a lazy summer's day in the city. Nothing like the lethal and highly paid killer Brad knew her to be.

" So why are you an assassin? " he blurted out.

She didn't even look at him.

" I'm good at it, " she responded disinterestedly, checking her rucksack for all her belongings.

" Have you tried horse-riding? "

That got a look. A what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about? look but a look all the same.

" It is just, " Brad explained rapidly. " you could be good at that. And then you could stop killing people and be a show jumper instead. A champion one. "

" That's a very interesting and… random thought, " Christie allowed.

" Or maybe, I don't know, a lawyer. You could do that. "

She was back to not looking at him. And maybe Brad was imagining it but he was pretty sure he could detect a stiffness to her shoulders.

" My life isn't broken. Stop trying to fix it, " she said coldly. She was involved with an examination of a stiletto knife that she had removed from her discarded boots.

" But you could be happy. You do not have to be… " Brad faltered as she spun around to face him, the knife still in her hand.

" Do not presume to know whether I am happy or not, " she told him emotionlessly. " I have made my decisions and I stick by them. Whether you agree with them or not is your own concern. If you find that your morals won't allow you to continue in my company, there's the door, " she said, pointing with the knife.

She turned back and began strapping the stiletto to her lower leg. Bad watched her, desperately searching for the words that would somehow make this better.

" Please, Christie, my friend. If I have hurt you I am sorry. But what you are doing for me is not the action of the cold-blooded killer you present to the world. I only want to help you, and if you are unhappy then I want to make you happy. But if you truly are happy… "

" Which I am, " she told him firmly.

" Then I am happy. I would not dream of coming into your life and disturbing you. "

_You already have! she wanted to shout. She wanted to hit him and tell him to make her angry again. Anything but his calm, concerned eyes on her. _

The room suddenly felt very small to Christie. She needed to get out. Grabbing the only thing that was important, the laptop, she slipped her gun into its familiar place at her hip.

" I need some fresh air, " she said quietly, pulling the door open.

Brad nodded, sighed and sat down on the bed.

" No, " she said patiently. " You can't stay here alone. It's not safe. You have to come with me. "

" Are you sure? " Brad asked, moving to his feet even as he spoke.

" Trust me, " she said with a half a smile.

" With my life, " Brad answered. " But this _is_ just a walk we are taking, yes? "

He stepped out of the room after Christie.

" You can never be too sure, " she replied grimly, shutting the door firmly.


End file.
